


Office Favorite

by ExplicitFeedFics



Category: Super Fatty Office Administrator Simulator
Genre: Belching, Breasts, Burping, Eating, Feeding, Food, Food Kink, Furry, Gen, Gluttony, Hand Feeding, Hiccups, Immobility, Messy eating, POV Second Person, Rapid weight gain, Stuffing, Unrealistic Weight Gain, Vore, Weight Gain, stomach sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplicitFeedFics/pseuds/ExplicitFeedFics
Summary: You're settling into your new job, content on raising productivity through what means you know how to. Someone quickly becomes your favorite to visit, though.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Office Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> So this is almost the perfect game for this sort of thing. It would be if there was already tags for it, and if there were some guys for me to fatten. As it stands though, it's a great game that you should check out if you like weight gain and the like, which, if you're reading this, you assuredly already do. As long as you're upwards of neutral of female weight gain, you should really enjoy it. Anyway, Kathy's my favorite from the game. I'd focus more on some of the others, maybe even Jon, if that were to come up, in the future or whatever, but it'd be impossible to get all of them in this one short story, so I focused on my favorite. I also defaulted to 2nd person cause it's easier for these things. Also, this is the first not explicit story, cause, I'm mostly gay. But also, the original game isn't explicit, so neither will I be.

The new hire had been getting a bit popular around the office; certainly more than the last guy. A variety of donuts every morning, plus a fully stocked vending machine and café. The only person who found a reason to complain was Chloe, but it wasn’t like she was gonna stay on her diet anyway. Kathy, however, was taking a particular liking to the new guy, and it seemed the reverse was also true. While everyone else was obviously getting a bit pudgier in the middle, Kathy was quickly finding herself outgrowing her clothes. It seemed that there was some favoritism about.

You were getting the hang of all of this. Order some donuts, make sure everyone got fed, and if they gained some, well, that was good for you. Not just because they were larger, although that was obviously not to be ignored, but also because they would, usually, work more. And, as had been explained to you already, your pay was tied to productivity. You were still getting the hang of everyone’s preferences, but you were pretty sure you had it down. And offering snacks and making sure everyone could get everything they wanted at the café was working. Everyone was snacking, and eating larger lunches than maybe they ought to. More money in your pocket. And more money for snacks and lunches.

Your productivity, as you saw it, was tied to your attentiveness and mobility, however. You’d been offered snacks by your increasingly appreciative coworkers early on. It was when that button popped off and broke from your shirt that you decided you were at risk of being fattened like everyone else. Nice, certainly, but that would make it harder for you to get donuts to everyone else. Maybe after everyone else had been fattened up, you would let yourself go. But for now, you had to be moving and serving food. So, you’d been on the fitness program since that day you wrecked your uniform.

Everyone had gained a dozen or so pounds. Probably more. They’d sit at their desks, mindlessly snacking on chips and cookies and the like as they worked— as long as their work was within arm’s reach of their chair. You were sure to come by and offer donuts, which everyone gladly accepted. But there was one you stopped by noticeably more often. Kathy. You weren’t sure what it was— maybe it was the nefarious, trouble-making attitude, or perhaps her cute face and eye-catching two tails. Regardless, you focused your attention on her. At first, perhaps only you and she noticed. But now, well, it’d be difficult to not notice that she was your favorite.

Kathy had gained maybe fifty pounds already, less than a week into your tenure. The others had gained at most half of that. Her clothes strained against her form, and every time she leaned back, whether stretching or trying to reach something, her shirt would pull out from being tucked in her pants, and you’d get a good look at her belly— heavy and swollen. The fact that she continued to keep wearing the same clothes, and they just about fit, was a bit of testament in its own right. Her belly, her thighs, her breasts— it all was getting rounder and heftier.

Indeed, Kathy was clearly a bit of a fiend about snacking already, but you feeding her daily seemed to compound that. By the end of your first week, she was nearing a hundred and eighty, which was bulky on her somewhat short stature. And when you came back, after the weekend, it seemed that she’d continued to binge. The others had kept a relatively consistent weight. Some were maybe a couple of pounds heavier, some maybe a bit lighter. Chloe had actually kept with her diet just a bit, more than the others were expecting, and she lost four, maybe five pounds.

When you visited Kathy that day, armed with donuts, she offered you some of the snacks she had around. You politely declined, and she went ahead and ate them herself. Adding donuts in there, she was set to gain more that day. It was then that she asked you to lunch, something she hadn’t done before. You gladly took her up on that offer and visited the café.

She clearly acknowledged the favoritism you had been displaying and was clearly just wanting you to buy her a big lunch. Not that that wasn’t what you were planning on doing anyway. You bought meal after meal for her, and yet she still wanted more. You were surprised. Impressed perhaps. Excited, certainly. Ham, pasta, lasagna, brownie after brownie, she gobbled them up nearly as fast as you could pay for them. She was making a mess of herself, but if she felt any embarrassment at her gluttony, she didn’t show it; not that that was like her at all. She eventually did fill herself up though, maybe ten, fifteen, twenty pounds later. Burping, with her stomach groaning and gurgling the whole time, she made it back to her desk.

The next day, you stopped by to see her, with more donuts than you might usually. She struggled to fit in her chair, her thighs and her butt having filled out and thickened. Her shirt strained against her breasts, and it rode up her massive belly, which was now constantly exposed, navel and all. Her workspace was loaded up with snacks from the vending machine. She went from snack to snack, eating with vigor. Obviously, she liked the snacks. If anything had been clear to you about Kathy, it was that she  _ really _ loved some of these snacks. And clearly, gluttony was taking over. Kathy felt simply that everything she had was  _ so good, _ and she desperately wanted more. So, ignoring the mess of crumbs and stains she was making on her shirt, she continued. She shoved things down her throat so quickly you weren’t sure she was even tasting them, though.

She noticed you and, mouth full, said your name in delight. Of course, because your arrival was always coupled with snacks. Snacks that you happily provided to her. With her large belly resting on her thighs in her chair, she used her gut as a table for all of the snacks you gave her to sit as she ate more. Loud belches echoed throughout the office, and the noises of digestion rumbled throughout.

Everyone else was gaining weight at a rather consistent, slower pace. And it did make them more productive, lining your pockets. Kathy was not more productive. You didn’t know how productive she was before your arrival, but she averaged zero minutes of work a day at this point. How could she work if she was to eat all of the tasty, tasty snacks?

Again, she took the initiative, out of a deep desire for more food, to ask to come to lunch with you. Caught staring at her belly, she asked you again. Snapping back to attention, you agreed, and you helped her get out of her office chair. She waddled to the café as you couldn’t help but eye her growing form.

And again, like yesterday, she wanted all of the food for herself. She offered to get you food, but not only did you not want any, staying on your strict regimen for the time being, but she probably only offered to be nice. Kathy wanted food and she wanted it before she offered to buy you anything. So, you did what any good coworker would do and you ordered her enough food to feed the whole office for a week.

Her face was rounder— fatter, and a growing double chin accentuated it. She had to reach around her boobs to grab the food you were buying her. You stared at her pants and at her shirt, amazed that they were still in one piece and still on her. With a mouth full of both ham  _ and _ brownie, she said, jokingly and insincerely, not to stare. Of course, she either didn't mind or enjoyed it. But either way, she enjoyed the food much more. By the end of the lunch, you’d spent more than a hundred, and not a single cent had been on yourself. Again, not that you would have, or that it had been misspent.

Her mouth was coated in icing and grease, although it was hard to notice. In between hiccups, she groaned from her painfully swollen stomach. With her arm struggling to reach past herself, a hand rubbed her loudly digesting stomach, which let out occasional belches.

The next day, you again rushed to the breakroom to grab about three dozen donuts and to get to Kathy’s workplace. You’d take care of everyone’s growing needs before the day’s end, of course, but Kathy was needing additional attention. Her mobility was getting concerning, after all. And as you saw her, she had shut her computer completely off and was focused on gorging herself on all manner of food. Her chair was maybe thirty minutes away from snapping under her, and half a dozen plated adorned the surface of her increasingly distended belly. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of you, and with her mouth so full as to be practically incomprehensible, she repeated your name.

But instead of impatiently waiting for you to give her some more snacks, or asking to go to lunch, she immediately began to ask, desperately, for you to get more snacks. Lots more snacks. Kathy wasn’t just gluttonous, not even gorging herself, she was utterly  _ ravenous, _ and nothing short of her own weight in delicious food would suffice. You struggled to respond initially, but nodded enthusiastically and dropped off what little you had for her as you ran back to get more. Already, she began to binge on the donuts you brought as she reached around herself to grab them off of her belly.

You returned with everything that you could get. Practically the whole vending machine, plus all of the donuts you could bring was set nearby Kathy. If the need were to arise, you would assuredly get food straight from the café for her. Although there was no guarantee that this was enough, she was hastily eating it all.

You watched, rubbing her groaning and growing, bloated and massive belly, listening closely to the gurgling and bubbling and churning. Unfortunately, it wasn’t but five minutes into her buffet when her chair completely crumbled under her weight. You pulled the remains of the chair out and aside, while she continued to force food into her maw without skipping a beat. Not like any other chair here could hold her weight anyway.

Her belly stretched out quite a distance from herself, to the point where her arms couldn’t reach. And its size caused it to expand such that the shelf she had once relied on was now too high for her to reach. Her shirt covered less and less of her with every passing minute, and her belly sat flat on the ground between her legs, which assuredly could no longer support her. It was at about this point, when her deepening navel was increasingly exposed, and when her burping was interrupting most words she uttered, and when her shirt threatened to rip from the sheer size and weight of her breasts, that she needed you to help. Kathy begged for you to feed her, to help inadvertently fatten herself up on all of the food she craved. She had covered her stretched, already dirtied shirt in even more stains and crumbs, and her face was even messier. Despite the messiness you would undoubtedly get involved in, you wholeheartedly agreed, both to see her grow even larger, and to help out an acquaintance in need.

You saw what snacks remained nearby, and you decided that that wouldn’t be enough, so you told Kathy to wait just a minute, and you rushed to the café, ordering as many plates of food as you could reliably get to Kathy, with the aid of a couple of carts that probably would’ve been used for janitorial duties. Instead, it assisted you in bringing a few dozen dishes Kathy loved to her.

Kathy was displeased when you came back, upset that she had had to go without food for  _ so _ long. Did you want her to starve? Clearly not, so you started shoving what you’d gotten into her greedy maw. You used your hands, which were quickly getting as dirty as Kathy’s, to feed her. She accepted the food extremely happily, smiling as she opened her mouth for you to feed her more.

Going through most of the dishes, she’d grown more. You were completely on her immobilized form, using her belly as a sort of bed, lying on your front, between her increasingly massive breasts, as you reached for her mouth with food. Her face was even rounder and fatter, with a definite double chin, although it was hard to see past all of the icing and chocolate and grease that coated her face and her neck. Well, not that you could see her neck anymore. Her countenance was nearly unrecognizable from when you first met her. That devilish smirk was still there, but within an extra twenty pounds of fat and grease, squished into her form. Indeed, she could no longer reach beyond her boobs, and her shirt served mostly just to cover and contain them.

Kathy, or her face and her cleavage, at least, was completely covered in food and the mess that it left behind. Indeed, so was your hands, up your arms, and even on your chest as you lied on her gargantuan belly. You noticed that you were starting to run out of food, but you continued to take the dishes you had and help Kathy, whenever she wasn’t burping or panting, take in more food. Somehow, even after all of that food, she was  _ more, _ not less desperate for food. You’d think that she was filling up in some capacity, but no; she was begging, desperately moaning for more food.

You looked back at your carts, at what snacks you thought had been left, and there was nothing. You pulled yourself off of Kathy’s morbidly obese belly and you again promised her more. With her speech slurred and made slightly less comprehensible with her fattened cheeks and, well, everything, she told you to hurry. Not wanting to make her wait, to make her starve herself, you rushed back to the café with the carts, willing to spend what money you had on you to get more for her. You and her both wanted her to eat to her heart’s content— even if that meant she might take up a few rooms worth of space.

Alternative vore ending:

* * *

As she begged for food, you came to find that none remained. You tried to scoot backward, to pull yourself to your feet and to get more for her. But, she would certainly starve in that time you left her. Besides, out of all of the food she’d had, you still looked tastiest. With her nearly useless arms, she managed to reach you and pull you closer. You struggled under her surprisingly strong, but unsurprisingly sticky, grip, as she pulled you facefirst towards her greedy gullet. Past her incisors and her double chin and her huge and fatty cheeks, you were pulled closer and closer, getting grease and chocolate all over you from her chest and her face. Into her mouth, she swallowed your svelte form whole, with you sliding down her slimy throat and into her belly, finally satisfying her gluttony; for the time being. With a massive, prolonged belch, she expressed her content.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really a fan of vore, but SFOAS has some in it, and the way I ended this off, it felt sooo easy to go for it, that I felt I had to. So, yeah, not really a fan, nor am I good at writing it, but I had to insert some amount of vote into that situation.


End file.
